Criminal Intent
by Mynystry
Summary: Vampire: The Requiem...Lorenzo Nicola sets out to prevent the Masquerade from being compromised. But when the crime leads to the truth of his Embrace, his sanity and his soul become the true victim.***Based on the S.A.S. of the same title, be warned...***


_**Vampire:**_

_**The Requiem**_

_**___________________**_

Criminal Intent

C. Shaver

One.

"Go in peace," Prince Antol Gustav announced to the patrons assembled in the ballroom, "and may the night grant you fortitude and preservation, eternal."

In unison, the room responded, "By the blood and the born shall we walk in peace." And calmly, the crowd began to break off from the assembly and mingle as servers quickly spread through the room offering wine glasses of lukewarm blood. A string quartet softly started up as the room's chandeliers slightly dimmed. The official meeting of Elysium was over. Now, the vampires of Las Vegas were free to socialize.

Ren hated the idea of socializing with the Kindred. In his seven years of unlife he had managed to make few friends in the undead society and could see no reason to make more. Not that he needed them. Being the adopted childe of the city's Prince gave him all the status he could ever use. Usually Ren left Elysium when the official business was finished before he could be noticed- if he attended Elysium at all. He wanted to go outside and feed then return home before his daughter, Donna, went to bed. But the Prince had requested that he show tonight, and meet privately later. Ren never refused a request from the Prince.

He kept his head bowed and moved off to an empty corner, ignoring an offered tray of blood glasses. He knew that while the fluid may have been kept warm for the event, it didn't compare to fresh blood straight from the vein. Warmed blood reminded him of flat soda…a memory that almost made him smile sadly for a brief moment. Cherry cola had once been his favorite drink, ice cold and fizzy. But now, seven years after his last taste, he could barely bring the taste to mind.

He took a quick glance up, catching the nearest faces. There was Shawna from clan Daeva dressed in a form-fitting red gown that ended in an explosion of ruffles on the floor, her pale breasts barely held inside as the heaved from fake laughter at whatever Dorian was telling her. Typical of all Gangrel vampires, Dorian's attire was simpler than his companion: white tee, faded blue jeans, scuffed work boots. His muscled frame was the picturesque construction worker.

Across the room, Ren peeked at a trio he was more familiar with. August Winters was posing in her trademark white suit, her auburn hair flowing around her face like a veil. Though the Daeva clan was famous for beauty August was a stunning sight, with a golden sheen somehow manifesting through her alabaster skin. Next to her stood Renaldo, the city's prominent real estate mogul and the Keeper of Elysium who arraigned all of the vampires' official gatherings for the Prince. Renaldo reminded Ren of Old World nobility, always appearing in the most expensive suits with impeccable hair and shining fingernails. Unfortunately nothing could distract from the deep, dangling wrinkles of skin that covered every inch of his flesh- an immediate sign that he hailed from the Nosferatu clan. August may not have had a physical deformity like her kin, but she suffered from the clan's curse as well: a headache inducing, stomach churning disgust that began the moment one was in her presence. To other vampires the effect was annoying but to humans it was nauseating at usually unbearable for more than a few minutes of time. This was why she dealt with the mortal world mainly through her human ghouls keeping her free to deal with Kindred affairs, such as being the Priscus- head of her clan.

The last in this trio was Ossen Ramirez; Ren could only keep his eyes on this Nosferatu for only a moment. Not because of the monstrous fear he inherited as his clan's curse, but because seeing Ossen immediately sent Ren back in time to the night he was released from his tormented prison at the hands of the vampire Corinth and inducted into the life of the Kindred. Ossen was one of two vampires that found him that night, cutting free the chains that bound him to the basement wall. His instant freedom sent Ren into an instant Frenzy, the madness of the Beast inside every vampire's blood waiting to be unleashed, and in this insanity Ren tore out Ossen's eyes. It was his first experience with Frenzy, and one he would never forget. Ossen's eyes eventually grew back thanks to vampiric healing powers but he never seemed to forget the incident either- not the way he'd glare at Ren, momentarily, whenever they happened to meet. Ossen had called for Ren's destruction after the rescue. It seemed to come more from spite than necessity.

Ossen he'd known since that night. August and Renaldo, however, were members of the Ordo Dracul, the same covenant Ren belonged to as well as the ruling covenant of the city, since the Prince also belonged to the group. They had all taken part in ceremonies together, and Ren had spoken casually with all three at events such as Elysium. But most of the other faces he scanned in the room he only knew by sight- a few he couldn't recognize at all. There were some others he knew from his covenant, and a few that belonged to his clan. No one was here that he would want to speak to.

These thoughts made him want to leave even more. He pulled out his cell phone to check the time. Ten forty-seven. His daughter would be long in bed before he could escape.

_Not escape_, he quickly growled in his head, _when I can __leave_.

There was a low rumble beginning in the back of his mind- the slow rising of hunger. It was customary to feed before a gathering of Elysium to insure no one attending was sent into a hunger Frenzy. But there hadn't been enough time. He had needed to get groceries for the house, and do the laundry so Donna had her school uniform ready for the morning. His daughter had been out when he woke at dusk, no doubt spending time with her friends doing what any normal teenage girl was suppose to do. He could have made Donna do her own laundry, but there was always a certain tinge of guilt when he left her these things to handle. She'd been left to do so much on her own since he'd become one of the undead… a fact that he still kept secret from her. How she explained his strange behavior in the past seven years was anyone's guess. He supposed she blamed the death of her mother. He didn't mind these chores anyway. There was a sense of familiarity- of _normalcy _- to daily things. It made him feel human again.

But it was only a feeling. And it was a brief one.

"Lorenzo!" a voice sang to him, breaking his sullen trance. He looked up and steeled his nerves, keeping himself from rolling his eyes with annoyance. Shawna was waving him over to join her and Dorian. He took a moment to look around for any reason not to then sighed and walked over, dragging his heels.

He couldn't help but flinch as Shawna put an arm around his shoulders, squeezed playfully, and kissed his cheek. Her lips were like ice cubes, and the aroma of the party's blood-wine made the vampire Beast in his mind grumble again. Dorian was smirking at him, eyeing him from head to toe with disdain.

"Lorenzo, it is so _wonderful_ to _see _you, my dear," Shawna cooed, slipping her arm around his and laying against his shoulder. "We hardly _ever_ see you out anymore."

"I'm just here to see the Prince," Ren answered, uncomfortable with Shawna's touch. _But that's a Daeva for you_, he resigned to himself.

"As if you don't see enough of the Prince," Dorian's tone was condescending as he looked around the room with boredom. Ren was used to this flippant attitude from most Kindred, but Dorian seemed to be challenging him, even if it was subtle. "Besides, Prince Antol isn't even in the room."

"Oh, he's probably just wrapping up that domain issue with the Lancea Sanctum fools," Shawna sighed, pressing closer to Ren. "I don't know _why_ our darling Antol can't leave covenant business out of these parties of ours."

"I thought your clan loved to keep up on the affairs of the covenants. You can arrange the Sanctified's open house party when the Prince grants them a new domain." Dorian grabbed a glass from a passing tray. "Of course, giving the Lancea Sanctum control of Green Valley is sure to piss of the Invictus boys. Don't you think, Ren?"

Ren shrugged, shifting his weight in a polite attempt to throw Shawna off his arm. "I don't pay much attention to covenant affairs."

Shawna finally dropped her hold, giving him a disapproving pout. "Lorenzo, as the Prince's heir you really _should_ keep an eye on city affairs. In case _anything_ should happen."

"He's not the 'heir' of anything," Dorian snapped.

"You know what I _mean_, my love."

"He isn't even of the same blood, barely even the same covenant."

"The Prince treats him as his childe, Dorian. We _all_ know that."

"There are others better suited to govern, more…deserving."

As the Gangrel and Daeva continued on, ignoring his presence, Ren again scanned the room desperately. If this hadn't been Elysium he would have risked going into Frenzy just to escape. The debate was beginning to draw attention. Frustrated, Ren stepped away and cleared his throat.

"I need to go find the Prince," he said, turning away from Shawna and Dorian, "I need to know why I'm here."

"I can answer that," a woman announced. Ren nearly walked into the speaker: a regal black woman in a conservative cocktail dress, her hair wound into a severe French twist and sharp make-up. It was her eyes that made him freeze in place. They told him this woman meant business. "Lorenzo, you may not remember my name, I'm-"

"Marissa Hart Carmichael!" Shawna exclaimed, her hands clasping the sides of her face. "Guardian of the Estate, our very _esteemed_ treasurer! It is an _honor_ and pleasure to _see _you!"

"Thank you, um…"

"Shawna Rome," the Daeva stuttered, her face falling. "Childe of Natasha, the Priscus of Clan Daeva and-"

"Yes, of course you are," Marissa disregarded her and turned back to Ren. "Lorenzo, I am the one who requested to see you, through the Prince. Could we go somewhere more private?"

Ren looked at the distraught face of Shawna then at Dorian's shocked expression. He smiled for the first time that evening and said, "Let's go on up to the Prince's personal estate." He could feel the eyes of everyone in the room watch him as he led Marissa out of the ballroom.

***

The security guards at the entrance bowed towards Ren as they walked past. He hated when ghouls did this to him. It seemed ridiculous, being treated like unholy royalty. Whether it was reverence from the hybrid-human servants or jealousy from Kindred like Dorian, the respect he received was embarrassing and tiresome.

The pair stepped into an elevator. Ren took out a uniquely shaped key, inserted it into a slot, and turned four times. A new button was lit on the panel, and after being pressed the elevator began its slow rise. The underground chambers of the Luxor casino were meant for Elysium and other vampire affairs. The Prince's chambers were at the height of the pyramid building, the very base of the famous spotlight that beamed from the building's point.

After a minute of silence, Marissa finally spoke. "I wasn't sure if you would remember me. The only time we came face to face was at your acceptance night."

"No, I know you." Ren's eyes met hers. "Most importantly, I know your reputation. You're one of the most important Kindred in the city, right up there with the Prince."

She smiled slightly. "Yes, well… that is all due to Antol, of course. It was his idea to form my position as part of his new regime. As Guardian of the Estate I act as a connection between the Prince and all others in the city through their financial assets and endeavors. Money is just as important as blood."

"Believe me, I understand that," Ren sighed. "Does it bother you when you're called 'the treasurer' rather than by your official title?"

"Well," she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "There is more to my duties than merely balancing bank accounts. But most don't understand my true relationship to the Prince. I suppose it bothers me as much as it bothers you to be called the Prince's heir."

Ren eyed her thoughtfully. "You heard that, huh?"

"Everyone heard it."

He looked down at the floor, shrugging. He wasn't sure what to say. He did understand what she meant, and swore never to address her as a treasurer.

The elevator seemed to take forever. They stood in awkward silence for another minute until Marissa turned slightly to face him and again broke the silence. "Lorenzo, may I ask you a personal question? Without intending to be offensive, of course."

"Sure. And please, call me Ren."

"Yes, Ren. I'm just curious as to why you've never claimed Corinth's estate. As his only known childe, you are entitled to it. The Prince liquidated what he could and locked up any property, refusing to grant it to his clan or covenant. Yet you've never taken anything. Aside from the massive account, there are-"

"I have enough from that monster," he said coldly, each word controlled fury. The Beast inside him was stirring again, this time knocking against his mind harder.

Marissa regretted her words immediately. "I'm sorry, really. I shouldn't have asked." She turned away, facing the doorway.

After another uncomfortable minute the elevator finally stopped. When the door opened they were faced with the Prince and two others. Ren recognized the Ventrue, Regina Stahl, and the Nosferatu, Hyacinth. They were the official leaders of the Lancea Sanctum covenant.

Prince Antol held out his hand toward Ren. "There is my fine gentleman now. Ren, we were just discussing how you are coming along. You remember our friends from the Sanctified, don't you?"

Ren stepped out of the elevator and shook the Prince's hand. "Yes, of course. Good evening, ladies."

Regina nodded politely, her resplendent features forming a haughty smile. Hyacinth gave him a look like a fan to a celebrity, her eyes batting at him and buck-toothed fangs hanging out of a broad smile. Ren recalled Antol telling him about Hyacinth's Embrace. A homely, shy girl who wanted to be a fairy princess of beauty, she used her occult knowledge to track down a vampire and offered her soul in exchange for her dream. Unfortunately, she found one of the Daeva; the Daeva don't make beautiful people, they _take_ them. The Daeva's rival, a Nosferatu, found Hyacinth afterwards and convinced her that he could take the gifts she did have and heighten them beyond anything that beauty could do. After her Embrace- that only turned her homeliness into something truly grotesque- she found that Daeva, stole her ghouls to be her own, then killed him. Her nights now were still used to covet what was beautiful and taking those that possessed beauty, using her Nosferatu powers, and destroy it. She was the prime example of what kind of monster a vampire could be to humanity beyond the blood-sucking beast.

The Sanctified women moved into the elevator, and the Prince bowed slightly, saying, "I am so happy we could come to a benevolent agreement. Please, give my regards to your covenant, and I will visit with you soon." The doors shut, and the Prince dropped his stately demeanor. "Back-stabbing whores," he muttered.

"Trouble in the senate, my Caesar?" Marissa laughed nervously.

"Not anymore, Marissa," Antol sighed heavily. "Of course, making peace with the Lancea Sanctum may mean doing battle with your covenant. Or even my own."

"Green Valley has been virtually unclaimed territory since your reign. The Invictus merely assumed it was theirs."

"Yes, well, your covenant is good at assuming everything is theirs. No offense."

"None taken, my lord."

"Well, I gather you've told Ren your business?"

"Not yet. We were looking for an appropriate place to discuss it."

"Mr. Petrovsky is waiting in the library now. We had met before I sat with the Sanctified. You can join him there. And, Ren, come see me when the meeting is over." The Prince clapped him on the shoulder. "Nothing too serious, just two guys hanging out, shooting the breeze."

Ren burst out laughing- genuine laughter, something he hadn't experienced in a very long time. "Right, my Prince, shooting the breeze." He watched the Prince walk away then turned to Marissa, his smile quickly fading. "He was joking."

Marissa laughed herself, shaking her head. "Of course he was. I know that. That is the Prince's gift: being appropriate. Knowing what to say, when and to whom. The model of civility to those two Sanctified, then a 'buddy' to you. It's that gift that helped put him into his position."

"He's not really my buddy," he started to protest, but decided not to waste time. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Marissa, what is this all about? Who is Mr. Petrovsky?"

Her shoulders fell slightly, turning her usual commanding presence almost childlike for the moment. "To be honest, Mr. Petrovsky was a close associate to your sire."

Again the Beast inside him jumped at attention with the mention of Corinth. Together with the ever-increasing hunger, Ren was beginning to find it difficult to keep his composure. "Listen, Marissa," he tried to keep his voice from growling, "if we're going to keep a pleasant relationship than I must ask that you stop referring to _him_ as my sire. Even if it is true."

Marissa's business attitude returned; she straightened her stance and stiffened her gaze. "Yes, again, I'm sorry. Mr. Petrovsky was a close associate of Corinth. Both belong to my covenant. Mr. Petrovsky was well on his way to becoming Primogen of the Invictus, rather than merely a strong voice. He had the reputation for being the champion of the First Tradition of our laws, acting as our city's self-appointed police force against anyone who violated the rule of revealing our existence to the human populace. This is what made him so important to Corinth's dominance. No one dared to break the First Tradition with Mr. Petrovsky around."

Ren was trying to make sense of this information. "Why haven't I heard of him?"

"As I said, he was an associate of Corinth. As you know, Prince Antol eradicated anyone who had allegiance to the former Prince once he assumed leadership. Mr. Petrovsky was spared any such action thanks to his status among the city's Kindred and in no small part to the protection of the Invictus. Since Corinth's destruction he has laid low, keeping to our covenant's affairs and avoiding the Prince."

Ren nodded. Anyone who wasn't chased out of the city after Corinth was gone could only survive in one of two ways: complete devotion to Antol or being invisible. "So, what is he up to now? And why does he want to involve us- or rather, me?"

"My guess is he wants to earn the Prince's favor. Mr. Petrovsky was once a key player in this city. While he may not have lost his status, he did lose the ability to use that status. He came to me through our common covenant. When I went to the Prince for advice, he suggested I come to you. I would think that Mr. Petrovsky would want to use you because you are the closest to the Prince."

"There are others with a closer relationship to Antol, Marissa." He scratched at his head, still not sure of this business. "So, this character wants help sucking up to the Prince. And just how is he going to do that?"

"That part, I don't know. My covenant came to me, and the Prince told me to come to you. That's all I know. But, he's waiting for us now. Let's go find out the rest of this riddle."

Ren waved his hand down the hallway. "Lead the way."

***

When Antol claimed his role, he chose the Luxor casino as his haven rather than take the one that Corinth had used, mainly as a means to establish change within the city but also because the casino was his symbol of power and wealth. The building had been designed by a member of a rare Kindred bloodline known as the Architects of the Monolith who found mystical power through construction and masonry. Using their strange Discipline named the Gilded Cage this vampire created architectural brilliance not only be designing a masterful hotel-and-casino, but by crafting a structure that had more space inside than it did out. The Prince's quarters were a marvel, an inner palace of decadent beauty and grand design. There were seventeen chambers on two floors, accessible only by special keys such as Ren carried and each more decadent than the last. Walking through them made him feel small, like when he toured the Smithsonian in kindergarten. Some vampires could be demons like Hyacinth while others could be masters of the mundane like the Architects.

The library that Ren and Marissa entered was a treasured room of Kindred history and knowledge. It was one of Antol's obsessions to collect as much information about the vampire condition that could be found. Twelve-foot shelves lined the room and sectioned it into ten rows, filled mainly with hand-written tomes that dated back to pre-Roman days. Ren had been told this was the greatest collection of Kindred lore in the Western hemisphere, something that afforded Antol great respect outside the city among the occult world. Ren had perused the shelves only once. What he had found still came to him in nightmares sometimes.

In the very center of the chamber was a regal conference table flanked with velvet armchairs. At the table sat a man dressed like he had stepped out of a Depression-era food line: a white, button-down shirt, wool coat, dusty overalls and a faded, leather newsboy cap. His sleeves were rolled up revealing layers of tough, red scar tissue that continued up through his collar and framing a weathered, leathery face. His eyes were almost completely black.

Behind him stood two men in stark contrast, dressed in modern three-piece black suits and standing at military attention. They regarded Ren and Marissa warily.

Ren approached the table, feeling his Beast stir not from hunger but excitement. One of his first lessons as a vampire was to be aware of the Predator's Taint. When two Kindred met for the first time, the Beast within each would rise up like wolves invading the same territory, sometimes causing Frenzy in a show of dominance. This made initial contact between vampires a dangerous event. Ren waited to fight back the coming storm, but what he was feeling wasn't Predator's Taint…but it was _something_. He couldn't remember having met this man before, but the other vampire's presence was making his Beast react.

"Mr. Petrovsky," Marissa announced, "I'd like to introduce Lorenzo Nicola."

"It is a pleasure," the man replied, rising as he spoke with a precise tone. "My name is Vyacheslav Yurisovich Petrovsky, and I am honored that you would meet with me."

"That's quite a name," Ren said, trying to calm his Beast. Hearing the vampire's voice only made it harder. "Not the typical American brand. Is it German?"

"Russian," the vampire answered with a coy smile. "I am originally from St. Petersburg."

"Your English is impeccable."

"Yes, well, I have had ample time to convert my accent."

Marissa took a seat across from Mr. Petrovsky, but Ren remained in place. "I was just explaining to Ren about your honored history within our city. He is most eager to assist you-"

"Once I know _what_, exactly, I am assisting with. And more importantly, _why_."

"Yes. Let us get directly to our business, then." Mr. Petrovsky settled back into his chair, folding his hands across his lap as he crossed one leg. "As Miss Carmichael has no doubt informed you, maintaining the laws of our people is the utmost concern of mine. At one time I had no other vice than to insure the Masquerade we sustain was not only protected but also encouraged. Of course my position in supporting the First Tradition these recent years has…changed." He gauged Ren's reaction to this statement.

"Yes, well, things change," Ren said without emotion, crossing his arms.

"And yet our laws do not. No matter the times, or the ruler, our Traditions remain indifferent and must be upheld for the sake of our security and our progress."

"I'd say the Prince has done an outstanding job at upholding Kindred law. If you're implying otherwise-"

"No, absolutely not. Prince Antol has done a marvelous job at establishing a healthy and successful government for our city, especially compared to the anarchy imposed by our former monarch."

Ren grit his teeth. "A monarch that I understand you were very close to."

Mr. Petrovsky nodded his head slowly. "Yes. At one time Corinth and I were…close. For many, many years we were partners in turning the city into the greatest Kindred metropolis this country had ever seen. But Corinth lost his better judgment. His goal as ruler turned from nurturing a benevolent kingdom to bettering his own solitary existence. It was devastating to see such an admirable individual fall from grace."

Hearing the monster that took his life referred to as "admirable" pushed Ren's composure. The Beast within him surged, and he could feel the threat of Frenzy swelling up from his chest and out his throat. "Alright," he snapped, slamming his palms onto the table, "spit it out! What the hell do you want from me?"

Mr. Petrovsky waved a hand absently at his goons who jumped at Ren's reaction. "Forgive me, Mr. Nicola. I do tend to cushion my intentions with frivolous banter. As I said, the Traditions are what matter most to our existence. I have discovered that these laws are being compromised. Two nights ago, my retainer, Charles, witnessed one of our kind openly feeding in a public area. Not only that, but this was being witnessed and recorded by a human."

"But our image doesn't show up on film," Marissa said quickly, "no more than a blur, or a shadow. Why don't you tell us every detail, from the beginning."

"I had sent Charles on an errand near the Strip, a nightclub called Rapture. As you know, the Prince has forbidden feeding anywhere near the Strip due to the large number of kine that tourist the area, especially with cameras. As he exited the back of the club, there in the alleyway he saw a woman feeding from a homeless man with no regard for her presence. If Charles could witness her, anyone could. Also, he described her as being in a state of Frenzy. Another danger. But if this were not enough, there was another man standing nearby using a cellular phone to capture photos or video of the woman as she fed. Charles quickly moved to stop this man, but the woman dropped her victim, called out the name 'Rosario', and then fled with the man. Charles was wise enough to cover the act by shooting the victim to make it seem as like any other random crime scene before reporting back to me. Knowing the severity of this situation I began to arrange a means to stop this evidence from getting out, along with preventing this vampire from doing this again. Which is why I have now come to you."

Ren shook his head with frustration. "I still don't get why you want _me_."

"Actually, it was the Prince that suggested you, Mr. Nicola. I went to him the evening after this incident and he agreed that this matter must be handled quickly- and covertly. He explained to me that you were associated with law enforcement as a mortal, and that will be a paramount asset."

"Yes, I use to be a detective, Mr. Petrovsky. That was seven years ago. After my Embrace I had to quit the force and go into private practice. I'm not sure I have enough resources left with Metro to be of service."

"He was adamant that you be put on this task."

"Excuse me," Marissa said quickly, "but why am I here? Mr. Petrovsky, when you came to me I believed it was because of my connection to the Prince. If you saw him yourself, then why am I involved?"

"This matter requires more than just subtlety. It also requires diplomacy. And there is no better diplomat in the city than you, Miss Carmichael. Also, our covenant would benefit greatly by helping the Prince with this endeavor. There are old wounds caused by Corinth that must be healed if we wish to bring back our ideal, peaceful territory."

"Why not just handle this yourself," Ren asked as he withheld gnawing accusations, "and gain favor with the Prince all on your own?" There was something that seemed to be missing to the vampire's story, but he wasn't ready to unleash an attack just yet.

"Because that is not how things are done in this city. Not anymore. That is how we lost ourselves to chaos under Corinth's reign. Prince Antol directs our actions now, and so I brought this to him. His judgment is that you take care of this matter. And I completely trust his judgment."

"There's not much to go on here," Marissa groaned. "A vampire woman with a human named Rosario. I'm not sure what we can do about this, with a city of nearly two million people and forty to fifty vampires."

"Actually, I know the identity of the vampire in question." Mr. Petrovsky seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "Charles recognized her as Simone."

"And just who is 'Simone'?" Ren scoffed.

Marissa murmured, "Corinth's Hound."

Ren looked at her, confused and growing even more annoyed. "A Hound works as an enforcer to the Prince, sort of an official 'thug'. It's another detail of the old regime that Antol didn't revive. Simone had the reputation for being a wild card, sometimes enforcing even when she wasn't commanded to." She turned back to Mr. Petrovsky. "But there's been barely a word about her since Prince Antol took charge. I thought she had been destroyed, or banished, seeing as how she was one of Corinth's key players."

"I guess she laid low, like some other key players," Ren glared over at the other vampire.

"I would have to agree," Mr. Petrovsky seemed to ignore Ren's blatantly snide comment. "As you said. Miss Carmichael, two million people and fifty or so vampires- a number that changes each night- and not even the Prince with all his resources can keep track of them all."

"So we have a former bodyguard who's breaking the Masquerade and letting a human record it." Ren rubbed at his temples. "It makes no sense, and I still don't know what I'm suppose to do about it."

"You must retrieve any evidence the human has and destroy it," Mr. Petrovsky explained, "and make certain that the human does nothing to threaten the Masquerade. Any release of information would create an immeasurable threat. As for Simone, the Prince has agreed she must be put to Final Death for this act. Though I'm not sure if he means for you to carry out the sentence."

He pushed himself away from the table and stood up. "This must be done immediately. Already, too much time has passed. I've given you all I know on the issue, and I will assist you in any way that you need. But now I will leave you to it and wish you good luck. If the Prince trust you, then so do I."

He walked around the table to Ren with the other men close behind and offered his hand. "It is a pleasure to have met you, Mr. Nicola. I hope we can do more for the city in the future together."

Ren grudgingly shook the hand, using every ounce of willpower to keep the Beast from lashing out. "I'll do whatever I can. For the _city_."

Mr. Petrovsky smiled wickedly, and turned to Marissa. "Miss Carmichael, good evening and good luck." He then turned away and made his way out of the library. His henchmen glared once more in unison at Ren before following.

When the trio left, Marissa stood up next to Ren. "Well, what do you think?"

"He's lying about something."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. But there's just something off about all of it, especially about me being here. Antol could have chosen anyone else. I'm the last person he should use to take care of something this important. Not only that, but I swear I know that Petrovsky somehow. This entire time, there was this…I don't know, this feeling of danger about him."

"Ren, remember the night of Antol's coronation, the same night you were introduced to the city? Nearly every known Kindred was there. That helped prevent any further threat of Predator's Taint among the known residents. You may not have shaken hands with every single vampire, but they were there with you. Including Mr. Petrovsky."

Of course he remembered that night. The sensation of being surrounded by so many vampires at once in one grand room so soon after being Embraced and held a captive by a vicious, sadistic fiend had nearly driven him insane with panic and rage. If not for a mystical ward placed on him by the Prince he would have gone absolutely mad. "But still, the feeling I get from him-"

"Is because he's Nosferatu. Those scars aren't from his clan's curse. It's that unholy sensation he exudes. Even I felt it, hell, everyone does. But, let's not focus on Mr. Petrovsky. We need to find Simone and the human with the photos and stop whatever she's planning before the Masquerade is broken. Hopefully it's not too late."

"You're right. But not tonight."

"Ren-"

"Look," he snarled, "I'm not going to blindly hunt down a vampire that could probably kill me on sight based on a story from someone I don't know or trust. We need to know exactly whom we're dealing with. And I'm not doing it tonight. The Prince still needs to see me. And, I need to feed. Let's do some digging then meet sometime tomorrow night downtown. In the meantime, get me whatever information you can about this Simone character."

"Alright, I'll do what I can," she sighed, handing him a business card. "Call me when you're ready to meet."

"I will. Have a good night, Marissa."

"You, too." She smiled and tipped her head before walking away.

Ren watched her leave, then looked around at the bookshelves around him. He'd spent every year since the Embrace trying to stay out of vampire affairs, clinging to his mortal identity as much as possible. And, protecting his daughter from this world of darkness. Now he was being thrown into the unlife he despised…and for what reason?

Only the Prince could answer that. Ren heaved a deep sigh, out of exhaustion than anything else because he hadn't breathed in seven years, then walked out of the library to get the answer and hopefully talk his way out of the matter completely.


End file.
